


Of Magic and Men

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Politics, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, M/M, Magic, Magical Realism, Morality, Politics, and that's on god, dude honestly it's just a politics au and magic au combined where Alex is a dick most of the time, inaccurate politics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23688868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: In a world where the Gift of magic is as common a trait as brown hair or blue eyes, join Alexander Hamilton on a winding journey through politics and ambition, friendship and loneliness, love and betrayal. Observe his quest for morality as he navigates the stormy seas such a divisive trait as the Gift is like to cause. And witness the effect one Gifted politician will have on him.OrAlexander’s beliefs and career come into direct conflict with his friendships, and though all Thomas wants is to give him a chance, Alexander has a choice to make.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/Thomas Jefferson, alexander hamilton/john laurens (unrequited)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to state that throughout the story (less noticeably in this chapter, but very noticeably in future ones), the accuracy of the political happenings are dubious at best. Just know that I'm aware of this and I'm sorry, I warped the proceedings to fit my own agenda and make the plot go down the way I wanted it to. I just wanted to make the preemptive statement: don't expect the politics to be accurate.
> 
> That said, I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

_A campfire is an apt analogy for the Gift. One looks at a campfire, and though it’s essence is heat and flame and death, the very stuff all Earth’s creatures are created with an inherent instinct to fear, one sees it as harmless. And surely harmless it must be. For it is small and contained and a danger to no one. Perhaps it will even be of use. It can, after all provide warmth on a cold winter’s night, cook the rawness out of meat, ward away creatures that would cause harm. But this small fire is only harmless and helpful so long as it is contained. The Gift is much the same. One can nurture it and make it useful and keep it contained. But when presented with the tantalizing possibility of power, human nature doesn’t often allow for this containment._

_In this way, perhaps the Gift to us is what the bottle is to a hopeless drinker. We release just a touch of our essence, and maybe we aren’t hooked on the feeling right away, but the benefits are presented clearly upon this first excursion into the world of power. Maybe we create something beautiful, and maybe something terrible, but the more we create, the stronger the desire to create even more becomes. And with this feeling of creation comes a feeling of power, and with this power, the yearning to take, to take even from the individual with no way to protect themselves, to feel this power grow within us and expand beyond us, to feel in control and to know without a doubt that we are._

_Yes, reader, power is an intoxicating drug. And often a deadly one, too._

_I implore you to look beyond the clouded judgement of society, to fully appreciate the gravity of the failings of a power-drunk mind, to let your moral compass guide you rather than the yearning to see yourself at the top. Realize that those who are unGifted deserve more than simply the scraps, that they are equals in every way and deserve no less opportunity for their lack in raw power._

_Realize that appealing though the Gift may appear at first glance, it is a detriment to our society greater than any other. For with the presence of the Gift comes the prosperity of the majority, but the downfall and oppression of the remaining minority will become inevitable. And no trivial hat trick is worth that risk._

_So please, the next time you find the essence of the Gift bubbling up inside you, begging for a use, for a release into the world, think twice, on behalf of the people whose lives you belittle by doing so. ___

__Alexander skimmed over his work with a critical eye, chewing at the end of the pen in his focus. After a moment of thought, he crossed out the last paragraph. It seemed to him that it got the point across rather concisely, but the fact that it seemed to paint the tone as one of jealousy irked him. The people whose lives you belittle? It made it sound like an unGifted had drafted the essay out of jealousy for an experience he would never be able to access, when in reality this was quite the opposite of the case._ _

__Although, this essay was of little consequence. It was not the first he had written on the topic and it wouldn’t be the last. Alexander had built his career off his stance that the Gift was something to be despised and feared rather than utilized, and he had a small but loyal following of like-minded individuals._ _

__True, his wasn’t the easiest mindset to support, and he could understand that, at least to an extent. People who had the Gift wanted to use it, often even wanted to use it in ways that would further the common good. It could be used to heal, was often implemented in hospitals for that very purpose. It could make day to day life easier, it could be used in entertainment. It could even be used in the manufacturing of products.There was a use for the Gift in almost every industry. But like he had described it in his essay, using the Gift was like playing with fire. Too many got burned._ _

__Eventually, Alexander put the pen down, sighing to himself as he took a glance at his watch (his completely battery operated watch, untainted by traces of the Gift, which was often used to power products). He was expected to report to a cabinet meeting in five minutes._ _

__As a part of the president’s staff, he was meant to act as an adviser, and advocate for those he represented. Those who were antiGift were a small minority of the population, but their mere presence caused Washington to add Alexander to the cabinet, as a representative of that school of thought. As far as Alexander could tell, no one else in the administration shared his beliefs. He was here as a token, a symbol to prove to the world that Washington advocated diversity of thought in government. His opinion wasn’t taken seriously, his suggestions always ignored and never implemented. He rather felt that he was the joke of the White House._ _

__But he was all the louder for it._ _

__He tucked the notebook paper he’d been writing on into a folder for later work and climbed to his feet, squaring his shoulders before he left his office. He would be seen as nothing less than a confident force, ready to fight tooth and nail for what he believed in if that was what it took._ _

__As soon as he left his office, the presence of the Gift was as obvious as a kick in the teeth. The lights were powered by it, it wafted folded up memos gently from office to office, the atmosphere practically vibrated with it. Even now, years after the building was erected, the walls buzzed with traces of the Gift, residual from when a team of architects had worked to bring it into existence through what would seem to be sheer force of collective will. It was glaringly obvious and hugely obnoxious, but Alexander walked straight through it all as if it simply escaped his notice._ _

__Entering the mostly full conference room brought about a whole new level of agitation. Most of the men and women inside lounged about, engaging in idle polite conversation before the president arrived, having no need to prepare for note taking during the meeting, or fulfill other small and menial tasks. The Gift would do that for them. There were a few unGifted cabinet members pulling out laptops or pen and paper, having worked their way sufficiently up through the political ranks, deserving their place in this room as much as any of the rest of them. But even that thought didn’t bring him comfort. These unGifted, the very people he advocated for, did not share his views, or even acknowledge his good intentions. They preferred to live their idle lives, letting the Gifts of others wow and impress them, never stopping to think that this power they were so used to witnessing might not be all good._ _

__But the worst of it all was the man in the seat across from him. Thomas Jefferson was the physical representation of everything Alexander despised and stood against. He lounged in his chair, speaking with his friend and colleague, James Madison, who was unGifted and soft spoken, Jefferson’s opposite in every way. Jefferson made no attempt to reign in his Gift whatsoever, letting it practically seep out of him, electrifying the surrounding air in it’s lack of directed purpose. He held that the Gift was just what the name implied: a gift to humanity, to be used to it’s fullest potential, for what he described as “the good of all”. Rather than put limitations on it, he advocated for what was becoming known as “Gifted rights”, a counter-movement that held to the belief that anyone could do whatever they pleased with their own Gift with absolutely no limitations short of breaking the law. It was despicable. Worse, the president and the rest of the staff seemed to almost wholeheartedly buy into it. Couldn’t they see that at the very least there needed to be limits? People couldn’t simply be allowed to have access to this vast source of power._ _

__Clearly noticing Alexander’s gaze on him, Jefferson glanced over, an arrogant smirk slipping onto his face as their eyes met. Alexander bristled and snapped his gaze away and towards the front of the room, where thankfully President Washington was finally entering._ _

__Washington’s presence soon commanded the attention of the room and it had fallen all but silent by the time he had taken his seat at the head of the table. Alexander paid rapt attention as Washington addressed them with new information and instructions, taking careful notes all the while, by hand of course. The country was not in crisis, and so Washington really did not have much to present to them that they would not already be aware of, and for the most part Alexander was just waiting for his chance to speak._ _

__So when Washington finally finished and addressed his cabinet with the inquiry of whether they had any concerns, reports, or comments, Alexander was quick to climb to his feet with a confident, “I do, Mr. President.”_ _

__He did his best to ignore the subtle look of resignation on Washington’s face and the looks of outright annoyance on the faces of his colleagues, instead mentally preparing himself for the speech he was about to make. When the president motioned for him to speak he simply nodded once and launched right into it._ _

__“I would like to propose a law that would completely prohibit use of the Gift in any fashion that interferes with the mental processes of an individual’s brain. There are any number of reasons why such manipulations of the Gift should not be allowed to continue, including but not limited to the lack of ethics in practices such as mind control, memory manipulation and erasure, modification of another’s IQ-”_ _

__“Hamilton, you’re being as short-sighted as usual,” Jefferson drawled, shamelessly interrupting him. He was sitting up straighter now, but he was still somehow the picture of casualness, his demeanor calm and his attitude belittling. Alexander shot him a dark look and opened his mouth to continue on as if nothing had happened, but now Jefferson had gotten to his feet, seeming to tower over those assembled when risen to his full height._ _

__“Banning mental interference would do nothing but harm. It’s already strongly frowned upon and in some states illegal to use many of the tactics you’ve mentioned, but to completely ban the practice as a whole is nothing short of preposterous. Use of the Gift is as of now the only scientific way to completely stave off the effects of mental illness permanently, easily, and with no side effects or added costs. Your excuse for a law would hurt tens of thousands of people all over the country, and I will not stand for that,” Jefferson argued, the drawl all but disappearing as his speaking became more impassioned._ _

__Alexander glared at him the whole time he was speaking, mentally planning his rebuttal. After all, the unGifted were susceptible to mental illnesses as well. But that was what medication was for, to alter the brain’s chemistry without the intrusive force of the Gift. He opened his mouth to say these things as soon as Jefferson was finished speaking, because, unlike some people, he didn’t need to interrupt to get his point across._ _

__But before, he could speak, Washington had waved him silent, “Thomas is right. Alexander, pursue this cause personally if you wish to, but I don’t foresee this as a part of my administration.”_ _

__“But sir-”_ _

__“Enough, Secretary Hamilton,” Washington said firmly. Alexander was furious, but Washington had spoken with a tone of such finality, even reverting back to titles rather than first names, so Alexander had almost no choice but to remain silent._ _

__Alexander spent the rest of the meeting antsy and itching to go back to his office. Or better yet, home, away from the Gift permeated air and the smug, or even occasionally condescendingly pitying, gazes of his colleagues. He’d finish his essay, he’d write another concerning his proposed law, he’d publish them both and then start on yet another. He had a purpose, a mission, and despite the lack of support and people willing to listen to him, he knew that writing was where his strengths lay. He could incite emotion, present facts, and finally convince the world that his opinion mattered, that it was right, that the world needed change. And so he would write._ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I feel like it's only fair to let y'all know that dialogue is not my strength and I struggle with it a lot, especially with making conversation sound natural. So if things sound weird or clunky at any point, I'm sorry, but that's something I'm still working on and will hopefully improve on in later chapters. Thank you!

Alexander took a seat in the chair facing Washington’s desk, more comfortable in this office than he was in many of the other offices and hallways of the White House. Here, the presence of the Gift was very much there, a subtle presence that seemed to almost thrum behind every surface. But it was subdued despite it’s obvious power, seeming more respectable than flashy. This, Alexander could handle, though he still didn’t necessarily enjoy it. Alexander offered Washington a charming smile, much less intimidated than he probably should have been by such a situation. After all he’d been called into his boss’s office, his boss who was the president no less, without warning. He supposed really this could mean anything, and considering his standing within the White House, he could be getting fired for all he knew.

But the prospect of getting fired was the last thing on his mind. He hadn’t gotten into any major shouting matches lately or shown any other signs of disorderly conduct, not in the last week or so at least. He was sure if it was about something like that he would have been reprimanded much more promptly. Truth be told, he felt that so long as Washington remained in office, Alexander’s career would be safe. And he had plenty of time before Washington retired in order to create some sort of plan for when the White House would no longer allow him on its payroll.

Washington had effectively taken Alexander under his wing when he’d first gotten started in politics. And maybe Washington thought it was childish or just plain wrong to be antiGift, or maybe back when Alexander had been starting out, he’d thought it was a belief that Alexander would grow out of. But Alexander hadn’t grown out of anything. Luckily, even if Washington didn’t trust him to have any direct influence over the country’s legislation, he still seemed to value his opinion, or at least respect that it differed. This was more than he could say for most other people, and whether Alexander would admit to it or not, Washington almost surely had a soft spot for him.

So he felt somewhat confident in his presence here. Even if it was bad news he’d be receiving, well that was a positive thing in a way considering it meant that whatever the problem may be, it was something Washington trusted Alexander enough to seek his help with.

“Alexander,” Washington said by way of acknowledgement. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d have thought Washington looked almost apprehensive. But he chose not to take this feeling as a bad sign, the president being as generally unreadable as he was.

“Hello, sir. You asked to see me?” Alexander replied promptly.

“I.. wanted to tell you this before you heard it anywhere else,” Washington said, tone placating even before he’d given Alexander the news. He paused to offer Alexander a smile, but it was an apologetic smile. Sympathetic. It didn’t comfort him in the least.

“What is it?” He cut in, unable to regret having potentially interrupted what the president was about to say, anxious to get the information as quickly as possible. His stomach dropped, dread filling him upon seeing the way Washington looked at him, almost as if he pitied him. This wasn’t Washington upset over some problem involving the country, this was Washington feeling pity for him specifically. Maybe he was losing his job after all.

“Secretary Jefferson will be running for president in the upcoming election,” Washington said eventually, almost delicately, as if he thought Alexander would have a breakdown at such news.

Alexander couldn’t help but let out a bark of a laugh at that. It was partially from the absurdity of the situation and partially from the sheer relief that this was all it was. Jefferson running against Washington? It was a laugh. 

“Good luck defeating you, sir,” Alexander said, not bothering to hide the amusement or the incredulity in his tone.

“I believe you misunderstand me,” Washington gave him another of those sympathetic smiles that Alexander was beginning to find infuriating despite himself, “I’m stepping down, I’m not running for president.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Alexander’s whole world came crashing down around him in an instant. Without Washington in office, there was no way Alexander would retain a job in the White House, or in government at all for that matter. With Jefferson in office, there’d be no Washington to vouch for him, just the inescapable prospect of unemployment and bankruptcy. Sure, he could go back to being a lawyer, but nobody would want him working on their cases, they’d all think his being antiGift would cloud his judgment or make him more biased. Or they’d simply hate him for it and want nothing to do with him. He’d have trouble being hired at so much as a fast food restaurant with that working against him, for that matter.

“He’s running unopposed, then?” Alexander asked, doing a passable if not entirely believable job of hiding his crisis. Maybe he could find out who was running against Jefferson, and in campaigning for them, earn himself a place in their cabinet. Or at least earn himself the chance to continue working in government to some degree.

“Officially, yes,” Washington replied, and Alexander’s heart sank. If Jefferson didn’t have any opponents to back, there truly was nothing he could do besides go down swinging. “Unofficially, though. There have been rumors going around of an Aaron Burr entering the race.”

Alexander couldn’t help but break into a grin at that. If Aaron Burr, the prodigy of Princeton College, lawyer extraordinaire, was willing to take on Jefferson, then just maybe he had a chance.

Alexander wound up spending less of the rest of his work day on his actual work than he did thoroughly looking into Aaron Burr. It wasn’t like him to push work aside like this, but the way he saw it, focusing more on who won this campaign would be more beneficial for his career as a whole than immediately finishing these couple essays would be. He spent much of the day sifting through article after article on his Gift powered laptop (which he despised, but used out of necessity since more complex nonGift electronic items tended not to work very well in highly Gift permeated areas, which the White House certainly was). 

The more articles he sifted through, the more tentatively hopeful he became. Burr was a genius, clearly, and he’d racked up quite the resume for himself. He clearly didn’t have as much experience in politics as Alexander did and it was difficult to find any statements that clearly stated his stances, but he was sure these things could be remedied if only Alexander could find the man and introduce himself.

When Alexander eventually went home for the day, thankfully managing to avoid Jefferson on the way out, the first thing he had done was call John, coincidentally the only one of his friends who didn’t have the Gift besides Peggy, needing someone who understood his views and would support him. But of course, the news had passed from John to Laf to Herc, and before he knew it he was hosting a small gathering of people in his apartment. Not all of them necessarily agreed with his viewpoints- well, none of them did except John- but they were his friends and understood the precariousness of his position, so had still come to support him, for which Alexander was extremely grateful to them.

Though now, as they lounged around his living room looking vaguely uncomfortable, it was obvious that Alexander had made one too many controversial remarks in his ranting. But nobody wanted to start an argument with him, especially not today, so Hercules had made the executive decision that they were going to watch a movie instead. No one had complained. Perhaps it would help calm Alexander down.

Once again, John was an exception to the rule, not arguing against the movie, but not exactly suggesting Alexander watch what opinions he stated either. They had curled up next to each other on the loveseat, ignoring the romcom on the television in favor of scrolling through the various statements and writings of Thomas Jefferson on Alexander’s phone.

“Look at this!” Alexander hissed, pointing out a particularly ludicrous statement on how the Gift was essential in the development of young children.

“He’s an idiot,” John whispered back, leaning over to read the statement. 

“Bereft of morals,” Alexander agreed.

“I’ve got no clue why he thinks he deserves to be pres-”

“Do be quiet,” Lafayette interrupted, shooting the both of them a glare from the armchair next to them. John and Alexander exchanged slightly guilty glances and fell silent. It was possible that Lafayette just wanted to hear the movie better, but in all likelihood that wasn’t the case. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Jefferson and Lafayette were friends (for whatever reason), but they were. And it was clear that they had upset him by talking bad about Jefferson. Even though Jefferson was going to ruin Alexander’s career.

But of course, this passiveness didn’t sit well with Alexander and couldn’t last long. Soon, he was back to scrolling through his phone and pointing out anything that jumped out at him as especially horrible to John. Though, entirely for the benefit of Lafayette, they didn’t insult Jefferson out loud anymore.

Alexander grimaced upon reading a particularly stupid point and turned to John, speaking quietly so Lafayette would hopefully not pay it any attention. “ I just wish there was some way I could let the world know how wrong he is and have them believe me,” he lamented. There was, of course, his writing, and he wasn’t about to stop with that. But the audience it reached was always either small or almost completely hostile.

Alexander smiled grimly as John gave him a sympathetic look. It seemed like he was getting a lot of those lately.

“You should debate him!” John exclaimed suddenly, perking up a bit.

“What?” Alexander asked, the heads of those who had been more focused on the movie or side conversations turning at the volume of John’s exclamation.

“Yeah!” John continued, seeming suddenly defensive of the idea, “I know there are already scheduled debates between candidates, but you should schedule one with Jefferson personally. You’d reach a larger audience and you could publicly beat him!”

“That might be a good idea, if you can keep it civilized,” Hercules piped up from where he was sprawled across the couch.

“Alex, I know you two, this will turn out to be a cat-fight, not a debate, and it will be broadcasted and public. This will do nothing but hurt both of your careers, please do not do it,” Lafayette argued, shooting Hercules a glare, who just shrugged in response.

It seemed like a crazy idea at first, what with Alexander not even being a candidate, but at the same time, the idea gave him the opportunity to completely tear down each and every policy of Jefferson’s personally and with an audience. He knew people didn't necessarily share his beliefs, but he could be persuasive and if he could sufficiently knock Jefferson down a peg, it might actually hurt Jefferson’s chances at winning. And the worst that could happen would be Jefferson refusing and Alexander getting to call him a coward for it.

Alexander looked at Lafayette blankly for a second, before turning to John, a slow smile spreading over his face as he thought about it, “ That seems like a great idea!”

“Yes!” John exclaimed, smiling back at him brightly. Lafayette shook his head and Hercules stayed impassive, not seeming to have much of a stake in the events that were taking place, or at least no opinion on which course of action would be best.

“I’ll go email Jefferson now,” Alexander decided, getting up to go find his laptop. It was outside of working hours, so there was no guarantee Jefferson would even read the email, but Alexander had gotten the idea into his head and by this point he knew that he wouldn’t be able to rest unless he was working towards his goal. 

Just as Alexander had expected, Jefferson hadn’t responded to the email by the time Alexander arrived at work the next day. Nor had he responded to it by the time Alexander had done all of his required work for the day plus extra. He was starting to get extremely impatient. How difficult was it really to send a simple yes or no in response to the proposed idea? At the absolute least, he should have the decency to tell him that he’d need time to think about it.

Having gotten himself truly worked up, Alexander got up and practically stormed over to the door, set on giving Jefferson a piece of his mind. But when he flung it open, there Jefferson was, fist raised and poised as if to knock. Alexander fell back a step, startled and temporarily thrown off his game. Jefferson just raised an eyebrow almost judgingly and stepped around Alexander and into his office as if he’d been invited.

Alexander practically slammed the door closed before he turned to face Jefferson, looking at him accusingly as he sat in the chair in front of Alexander’s desk, clearly making himself at home.

“What do you want, Jefferson?” Alexander demanded, not even bothering with any pleasantries, glaring at Jefferson’s still raised eyebrow.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jefferson snapped back. And before Alexander could even ask what he presumed to mean by that, Jefferson was ignoring him and pulling out his phone. After a couple of taps, he turned the screen around to face Alexander, the email pulled up.

“I think I’ve made it pretty clear what I want,” Alexander said, sparing hardly a glance at the phone screen before turning his determined glare back on Jefferson, “Must I really spell it all out for you? It’s really quite simple.”

“No, but what you need to spell out is how in the world you think this is a good idea,” Jefferson responded, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Gladly,” Alexander shot back immediately, jumping on any opportunity to say his piece and argue his beliefs, “I’m going to debate you and I’m going to win. I’ll expose every flaw in your beliefs and voters will see how hypocritical you are. But if you’re scared that a loss this bug will ruin your reputation..”

Jefferson’s expression darkened, recognizing the purposeful baiting Alexander was doing. But Alexander would say anything to get him to agree to this debate. “It’s not my reputation that will be hurt by a debate like this, Hamilton. I’ll do it if you want, but you have to realize you’re in the minority with your opinion here, the wrong opinion. What you’re doing is futile and self destructive.”

Jefferson’s expression, under the obvious condescension that he spoke with, looked almost concerned. It confused Alexander, but he brushed it off. He was probably just concerned about the fact that he was about to be destroyed in a public debate. Anyone would be concerned by that. And if it was Alexander and his career that he was acting so concerned about, well then it was honestly a bit offensive. Alexander was an adult and he had forged his political career out of what seemed like sheer willpower. He sure didn’t need Jefferson of all people to be concerned about his choices.

“I am not in the wrong, and maybe this is futile, but at least I’m doing something to stand up for what I believe. We’re doing this,” he insisted. And yeah, maybe one little public debate wouldn’t be enough to lose Jefferson the presidency. But if he could convince even one or two people, then his efforts would have been worth it.

“Okay, fine. So we’re doing this,” Jefferson agreed with surprisingly little resistance, looking more resigned than anything. Well, whatever Jefferson’s feelings on the matter were, Alexander was counting this as a win. Alexander smiled in response, far from a friendly smile, more one of satisfaction that his efforts were already beginning to pay off.

“I’ll see you on the debate stage,” Alexander said, holding out a hand for a handshake, mostly to seal Jefferson into the agreement. Not that a handshake would make the difference if Jefferson decided to back out, but Alexander supposed he could be forgiven for this little bit of dramatics.

“Sure, Hamilton,” Jefferson replied easily, taking his hand with that same look of resignation on his face. His tone and mannerisms gave off the impression that he was simply humoring a child with a rather overactive imagination, infuriating Alexander, though to his credit, he tried his best not to show it for the moment.

Before either of them had a chance to say anything else, there was a soft knock on the door. Promptly, Alexander dropped Jefferson’s hand, sticking his hands awkwardly into his pockets and watching Jefferson’s own hand drop casually back to his side. “Come in,” he called.

The door opened and Eliza’s head popped into the room around the partially open door, “I hope I’m not interrupting anything?” She smiled slightly as she took in the scene in front of her.

Alexander was just about to respond when Jefferson brushed past him, “Not at all, Ms. Schuyler. I was just leaving.” He flashed her a charming smile and she returned it, opening the door wider so Jefferson could exit and before Alexander knew it, he was gone.

Alexander was almost annoyed at how charming Jefferson seemed to be to everyone around him. All he had to do was smile at them in that stupidly charming way or wax poetic about how the Gift could be used to help people, which was truly utter bullshit. Even Alexander’s friends didn’t mind him for the most part. Laf was even friends with him for some reason. Scratch that, Alexander was more than almost annoyed. It frankly pissed him off. But he wasn’t about to take it out on Eliza just because her and Jefferson exchanged polite smiles, so he pushed down the feeling, greeting her cheerfully.

When Eliza stepped fully into the office, she lifted two styrofoam coffee cups up so he would see them and he grinned at her. “‘Liza, you’re a godsend, thank you,” he said gratefully. He wasn’t as tired as he usually was, being surprisingly well rested considering the relaxing evening he’d had with John, Herc, and Laf over. But even so, he still needed coffee in his system.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, laughing slightly as she handed him one of the cups.

“Well, why don’t you sit down? It feels like I haven’t talked to you in forever,” Alexander commented, gesturing to his spare chair and settling himself behind his desk with his coffee. While Eliza also worked in the White House, she worked as a secretary and in a completely different department, so despite working in the same building, they didn’t see each other all that often.

“It has been a while,” Eliza agreed, taking the invitation to sit down and taking small sips of her coffee, “But there’s something specific I was hoping we could talk about?”

“Sure, anything. What is it?” Alexander was trying to think of what it was Eliza would come to him to talk about, but eventually decided to just let it play out instead of continuing to wonder about it. Eliza didn’t say anything for another few seconds, almost seeming to be deciding whether to speak or not, or at least what to say. 

“Well.. the Gift,” she said eventually.

“Oh? Why’s that?” Alexander was surprised that she would bring that topic up. He knew they had different opinions on this and unlike him, Eliza didn’t like to argue, so it was a topic they would normally avoid bringing up.

“It’s just, Hercules told me you’re going to try and set up a debate with Thomas and I can’t help but be worried,” she explained, tapping her fingers on her coffee cup in a sort of nervous gesture. This response, not being quite on the topic that Eliza had stated, just confused Alexander more.

“Well, you know I can handle myself in a debate. There’s no need to worry,” he said reassuringly, though he was a bit bemused by the concern.

“That’s not what I’m worried about. I’m worried you might.. Well, are you sure you’re doing the right thing? I just don’t want you to regret this later,” she sounded nervous as she spoke, like she expected to anger or upset him, but Alexander was honestly still just confused.

“Regret.. The debate?”

“Regret the topic of the debate. Your stance, maybe? I don’t know. But I know you’d ban all use of the Gift if you could. What if you gained the support you needed and actually did it? Thomas is campaigning on the idea that it should be protected, used safely and generously, to help people. And not only that, Alexander it’s a part of me, a part of my sisters, a part of most of our friends, and it would be a part of you, too, if you let it. I know you have your reasons for not using the Gift yourself, but please, leave that as a personal choice, don’t try and take the choice away from the rest of us,” she had placed her coffee down on his desk and was leaning forward towards him, almost begging him to listen, to understand. Alexander was still slightly in shock that she was saying this to him. They had disagreements in their politics, sure, but they were usually able to remain friends without involving themselves too much in each other’s work endeavors.

“Eliza, I-”

“No, Alex. I don’t want to argue about this. Just,” she grabbed her coffee cup off the table and stood up to leave as she spoke, almost as if she thought that in staying too long, Alexander would take the opportunity to start arguing back at her. “Just think about it. Please.”

And then she was gone, hurrying out the door and down the hallway, leaving Alexander alone with his thoughts.


End file.
